Page 57 of Clause & Effect
I go still. “You can’t say things like that to people you just met.”
“Can’t I?” He grins. “And you’re cute when you’re embarrassed but I kind of want to punch whoever’s responsible for all the trauma and tears, I can’t take it away but I sure as hell can make you forget about it—all of it.”
My jaw drops. “You wipe memories too?”
He barks out a laugh. “Wow, I needed that, no I was thinking more along the lines of getting naked and pounding it out of you but sure, yeah, let’s go with magical memory wiping, that’s way sexier.”
“Wow naked and pounding, you sure you can manage to look at me during this sexual fantasy? What with my nose looking like this?” I tease.
“Oh,” he pats me on the head. “Don’t worry I’ll just push you up against a wall so my view is that of your supple spank-able ass instead of your face.”
“There’s an insult there somewhere.” Though I’m having a hard time finding it. My entire body goes live like an electric wire just sprung to life in my limbs and he’s barely touching me.
He laughs and pulls me into his arms. They’re warm.
“It’s not on purpose.” He says as he kisses the top of my head. “It’s adorable. Everything about you is adorable.” Then why does he sound like it bothers him that I’m adorable? Even though my heart slams against my chest at the words he’s saying something about them makes me wonder if it’s all wrong, he shouldn’tsound like he’s in pain when he tells me that I have likeable traits, right?
“I need some help in here!” Stetson’s father, aka Santa akafadir,calls out to us in his cheerful little voice.
Stetson gives me an apologetic stare. “He wasn’t supposed to be here and if we don’t go he’ll just keep yelling or worse singing and as you can witness, Santa’s tone deaf.”
Santa continues to sing Jingle Bells completely off key.
“Can you sing?”
“I hum.” He winks and then winces when Santa hits a higher pitch meant for dogs and people who like torture, a dish breaks, I’m not sure if it just threw itself onto the ground out of sheer pain or if he dropped it, then again wouldn’t he be familiar in his own home?
I frown. “Wait, isn’t this his home?” Eyes wide, I look around. “Like, isn’t this where he lives all year around making toys?”
“Yes and no.” Stetson shrugs. “This isoneof the places he loves to spend time, but mostly, he likes to isolate in one of our homes in Tromso.”
It’s one of the most northern cities in Norway—why am I not surprised? It totally checks out in more ways than one.
“Kids!” He calls out again. “I’ll sing louder don’t think won’t!”
Stetson rolls his eyes and tightens his grip on my hand.
“See? Told you so.”
I laugh as he takes my hand and leads me back to his father. It looks as though he pulled out every pan, cutting board, knife and whatever else he owned to make the meal, I wonder if he knows you don’t actually have to use everything in the kitchen. It’s cute. For so long I’ve been surrounded by private chefs and people who know how to use post mates on a professional level for every single meal of the day, add that in with the organic smoothies and seeing someone actually cook is refreshing. Dishes are . Food’s everywhere. Water is boiling and as soon aswe enter the kitchen Christmas music starts blasting through the house.
It’s a perfect mess.
Stetson’s dad hands me a red Christmas apron and winks.
“You can be my sous chef.”
“Well, I’m honored,” I reply and slip on the Christmas tree apron. It’s ridiculous looking and over the top, but then it fits right into everything I’ve experienced here. His dad pops around to the music—surprisingly agile for someone his age and within minutes I’m having the best time of my life, and learning some dance moves that really should stay in the North Pole.
Santa jiggles around the kitchen again and it really is one of the most freeing moments of my life.
Literally.
There’s something infectious about his energy and smile, something so relaxing. I don’t think I’ll ever forget this moment in my life.
“So how did you guys meet?” He asks us as he stirs the stew with one of his wooden spoons. Is this where I say well he showed off by wrestling a polar bear in a front of my very rich friends making all of us swoon, flashed us money and abs, made me sign a clause and here I am?
Stetson’s sitting on one of the barstools watching us with a moody look on his face. I can’t tell what he’s thinking.
